A friend of mine wanted to come see me and I told him that I wasn’t feeling well. When he asked me what I was wrong, I told him that depression comes in waves and that the tide was in. I’m still waiting for the tide to go out. It’s annoying to say the least, but it could be worse.
Buddy and I went for a stroll and it was nice. I didn’t think about much except for how nice it is to walk and not be afraid of anyone of anything. At the same time I’m afraid of being too confident. I’m afraid that my confidence will cause Buddy to feel like he needs to protect me even more.
Maybe I’m just living in my head too much.
As Buddy and I were about to go in the house, a person walked by. The person smashed his/her (I couldn’t tell which) fist into his or her other hand a couple times. I admit that this alarmed me a little bit. When Buddy saw this person he was determined to go visit the person. I’m not sure if he wanted to say hi or let the person know that their aggressiveness was not appreciated. I kept him by my side and went in the house.
I feel like I’m just rambling. I feel like life is meaningless. I feel that Horror films aren’t what they used to be and that Scream 2 is more of a detective movie rather than an actual horror film.
Yeah, I’m watching Scream 2. That’s how far the tide is in. It keeps me from thinking too much. I’m just watching it to see people get killed. Yeah, that’s how far the tide is in.
Honestly, I think I could write a better horror story than most of these so called horror films. The reason that I haven’t is that I’m afraid that I’ll do such a good job that it will scare even me. Also, I want to write something that makes sense and is scary at the same time. As of yet, I haven’t worked out the mechanics.
I wonder if writing a horror story will knock me out of my mood. Would writing horrors become addictive? It could be considered a good outlet, but where does one draw the line between creativity and a danger to society? Not that I’m a danger to society. Well that is unless someone messes with my dogs or my family, then I might become a danger to that particular person.
Speaking of people messing with my dogs, when another friend of mine comes over to do his homework, he always yells at my dogs if they even go in his general area. Buddy knows him and sniffs him when he comes inside and my friend yells at him to get away. I keep telling my friend that Buddy is being polite and once he’s found out what my friend has been up to Buddy will walk away. It’s a conversation we have every time he comes over. Every. Single. Time.
What really gets me is that this friend has a dog and has owned dogs in the past. Then again, this friend isn’t a dog person, per se. He only has a dog as long as it is worth keeping (ie. a hunting dog or a guard dog).
Now that I’m writing that, it makes me wonder if I need to choose better friends. I mean, oftentimes (not necessarily all the time) you can tell someone’s personality by how they treat animals. Of course, this friend admits that he doesn’t mind cussing people out or lying.
I really should hang out with different people. Those are not traits that I want to rub off on me or even be associated with.
Now I have even more to think about. Well, at least it isn’t about my depression.
Until next time, choose friends wisely or better yet, just stick with your pet.